


Even If

by writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle (twoandahalfslytherins)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: D/s tones, I had no idea whether to use the slash or the and symbol, Other, it is definitely a relationship but it is entirely nonsexual and most likely nonromantic as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 23:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoandahalfslytherins/pseuds/writelikeitsgoingoutofstyle
Summary: One of Alex’s other groomsmen is there, the pretty French one. John’s shoving something that looks like a peanut butter sandwich in his mouth and why he would choose that over the beautiful buffet that’s been set up Angelica doesn’t really know, but it's at least something. So she nods in his direction.Doesn’t expect him to rush to swallow his food, or grin up at her so proudly. “See, Good pet.”Angelica is saved from having to come up with a response when John focuses his attention on elbowing the other groomsman with a harsh ‘f off.’  She’ll slip off as those two argue about what he might have meant.





	Even If

It’s to be a fancy wedding. Alex might not be from money but he has slowly risen through the ranks at one of the biggest Tech companies in the States, and with Eliza being a Schuyler- well. There are expectations. It’s an intimate wedding none-the less. Eliza had put her foot down to her parents about that.

Still, the prep involves renting out a private portion of an island for over a week. Actual guests are only expected to come the day of, invited to stay the night before and/or after if need be- but the bridal party is expected to be there before hand.

.

Angelica knows, of course, that John is into men. Eliza’s warned her just in case of journalists sticking their noses where they don’t belong or busy bodies trying to ‘save’ Eliza from marrying A Gay.

Eliza is very well aware that her soon to be husband and his best man fooled around during the war. She isn’t threatened by this in the least. Bisexuals exist, dammit, she knows this. After all, she is one.

(Privately Angelica does wonder if it was just a bit of fooling around. She’s not friends with any of her ex’s, much less interested in having one at her wedding. She doesn’t voice this, of course.)

.

Angelica’s on the phone with the caterer when the ball starts rolling accidentally. John and Alex are sitting at the table closest to where she’s standing and well, she can’t help but overhear John mentioning how little he’s eaten. Alex, being Alex, only offs a comment about having not had much more himself before cursing because fuck the time, Eliza is going to kill him if he misses the appointment at the bakery for the final cake tasting.

Men.

The caterer has her on hold, so she thinks nothing of pulling the phone slightly away from her mouth and tapping on the table with her nails. “You really should eat something, pet. No one needs you passing out.”

Thinks nothing of her phrasing until she passes back by almost an hour later. One of Alex’s other groomsmen is there, the pretty French one. John’s shoving something that looks like a peanut butter sandwich in his mouth and why he would choose that over the beautiful buffet that’s been set up Angelica doesn’t really know, but it's at least something. So she nods in his direction.

Doesn’t expect him to rush to swallow his food, or grin up at her so proudly. “See, Good pet.”

Angelica is saved from having to come up with a response when John focuses his attention on elbowing the other groomsman with a harsh ‘f off.’ She’ll slip off as those two argue about what he might have meant.

.

Laurens, as it turns out, is also the oldest child of a senator. 

Angelica finds herself jealous of how far he was able to rebel without consequences. 

He’s an interesting person, she finds, if contradictory. At lunch one day he shows up in work boots and a torn shirt, having kept himself busy by helping someone on the Island build a deck. He talks excitedly at dinner about socialist reforms, but Angelica knows from the look of his jacket what kind of price tag came with it. Sometimes Angelica is tempted to point out the hypocrisy but well, she isn't always a model feminist herself.

When he doesn’t think any of the ladies are nearby, his mouth is as dirty as it comes. He might not comment on the cut of a girl’s blouse the way some of Alex’s other friends do, but Angelica has never heard the words ‘fuck’ and ‘damn’ so many times in one sentence. He's full of energy when he argues with the other men, little bouncing ball that eventually disappears and shows back hours later covered in a new layer of sweat and grime.

In contrast, when the ladies are around he is pleasant, charm turned up to the max with the ones who do not bear ‘Schuyler’ for a last name. All honeyed tongue and rumored southern grace. 

Comparing the way the men talk, she suspects there’s a bet or competition between him and the French one for whose accent can pick up the most numbers. 

.

The second spark comes over drinks one night. 

Her father, unsurprisingly, does not take well to John’s politics. Has no problem pointing out the hypocrisy that everyone else has been too polite to comment on. John’s jab is about fighting things from the inside, trying to build a company that does good- unlike her father’s generation that traded in their ideals for a paycheck.

Eliza, embarrassed, calls for her father to join her elsewhere to discuss the band.

John seems raring to continue the argument until Angelica squeezes his knee. It’s almost disconcerting how quickly he settles backward, watching passively as Lafayette, as she’s learned his name is, takes the chance to direct the conversation back to France and his adventures there. Calms the tension at the table with a waggle of his eyebrows, always skating the edges of crude but never quite tipping over the line.

.

From there?

It’s a game to her. Trying to figure out what it is that Laurens reacts to.

A hand on the back of his neck. A sharp look. A command. Small praise.

There’s a list of what he doesn’t respond to as well.

When she tries to flatter him, he retreats. He’s almost entirely neutral to what she’s wearing, whether it be a dangerously tight dress or a short skirt. He wants nothing to do with conversation regarding politics, which, she supposes might be a limit that Eliza has placed since that evening.

The rest, well, later she supposes that she should have realized sooner where John’s interests lied.

.

The dress rehearsal is mostly a success. 

As is the party they throw afterward, all huddled together in the dying light. Her veins are thrumming, all the excitement for what the weekend will bring. All their hard work coming to a beautiful end soon.

She’s not ready for everyone to go to bed, and yet they all begin to drift off. Lafayette blows John a kiss as he slips out of sight with two of the bridesmaids. Angelica pretends not to notice that another one of Eliza’s friends follows a little too close after.

Hopefully, he won’t show up tomorrow morning too exhausted.

“I-” John glances around them, bringing attention to the fact that they are now practically alone. “Should probably find somewhere to crash that I won’t hear him all night.”

“You could.” Except, Angelica doesn’t want him to. Wants to see if he can be balm to her nerves. If he tastes as sweet as his tongue implies. “You could also come sit by my feet. Your hair’s a mess and it will only get worse if you go crash on a couch somewhere before untangling it.”

There’s a brush and leave-in conditioner in her purse and it is the boldest move she’s willing to make just now. It leaves them both with deniability, no need to make things awkward before the wedding.

John doesn’t seem to get that memo. Flusters further, eyes glued to her knees. “I’m gay.”

“All the more reason that you should take pride in your hair.” Deniability, Angelica repeats in her head. Deniability. “The offer still stands.”

She expects him to say no again. To mention going to shower. Instead, he sinks and she bites her lip at the sight before petting his shoulder. “Other way. You’re getting your hair brushed, not kissing my hem.”

Angelica fetches her things as he shifts, trying not to think too much about what this means.

Tells herself that it means nothing that he took her up on it. After all, he’s gay.

Except-

“Shush,” Angelica pulls on his hair sharply when he grumbles about how rough she’s being. “You should be thanking me, not fussing.”  
She expects a huff. She gets a quiet ‘Thank you’ instead and really, really, she should let it go….

But-  
That tone. How prettily he reacts when she pulls on his hair… “Thank you, what?”

Deniability is slipping out the window and she’s got nothing to fall back on if this blows up in her face. It’s careless and reckless and Angelica has just enough time to start beating herself up before he responds.

Calls her Ma’am.

“I prefer Miss.” Or Mistress, but no, no, she needs some sort of self-control. To give herself back some sort of cover. “Ma’am reminds me of my mother.”

“No offense intended, Miss.” Angelica’s never heard those words said in that drawl. Makes a mental note to travel South at some point. “Thank you for fixing my hair, Miss.”

The first could have been teasing. The second… “I’m happy to take care of you.”

Can’t have anyone showing up to her sister’s big day looking a mess, she prepares herself to say, but pauses, focusing instead on braiding the hair in her hands. Lies to herself that she isn’t leaving him an opening.

An opening he takes, voice quiet. “Even though-”

He’s gay. He doesn’t say it but he doesn’t have to. “Sex doesn’t have to be involved if you don’t want it, Pet.”

Sex Angelica can get anywhere. She might not be twenty anymore but she’s hardly pushing thirty either and she’s attractive enough. Not to mention the power that her last name brings, the prestige. Angelica might not be particularly interested in the men who throw themselves at her for that reason, but that doesn't mean she hasn't allowed a few of the more restrained ones try.

Pretty boy submissives are a bit rarer but not impossible to find. She's never been into degradation, has no interest in calling a man worm as she grinds into his unmentionables with the toe of her shoes. Angelica slaughters enough dreams in the board room, prefers a softer touch in the bedroom. The kind of softer touch that John seems to thrive under, whether it be one of praise or redirection.

Yes, Angelica can find another boy who reacts the same, but well, when was the last time she'd met one that she could respect outside of the bedroom? The few partners that she'd taken in that context had mostly been anonymous faces halfway across the world. The kind of people that didn't want to know her any more than she wanted to know them. Mutual gratification with no strings attached meant to sate an itch.

But John knows exactly who she is, and she's been slowly painting a picture about him since they arrived. They'll probably need to work out a system. Something to help him know when it's safe to argue on a political level and when Angelica is looking for something other than an intellectual debate, but there are ways. Signals. Pieces of clothing. 

Discrete collars and cuffs if it gets that far.

A conversation for another time because right now-

Right now John's buried his face in her skirt and really, that's answer enough. 

Yes, he wants this. Wants Angelica to help reign him in, wants her hands in his hair, wants at least some of the kinds of touch that she can give him. 

The little details? They can work that out later.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this 900 years ago but someone asked me for it last night and I had to search the friggin blog and I figured if last night I could post a terrible masturbatory piece about trauma survivors in a relationship that I'm not entirely proud of- this can go up as well.
> 
> So here it is, slightly cleaned up.


End file.
